While I was cleaning up outside of Starbucks this morning, a blond pulled up to the curb in a white BMW coupe. She unfolded herself from the driver's seat and, clutching her Accessory Pug, flounced into 'buckies. She flounced out soon thereafter, Accessory Pug in one hand and hot coffee bev in the other. She awkwardly transferred the hot coffee bev to the AP hand as she fumbled the keys and got in. As she drove off, doffing sunglasses with lenses large enough to shade two small children, I thought three things.

First, I thought that pugs went out as Accessory Pets at least four years ago.

Second, I thought that if all you're driving is a BMW, you're not rich enough yet to own an Accessory Pet.

Third, I thought that if you're well-off enough to be driving a BMW yet feel that you have to emulate cunts even richer than you who carry pets as accessories, you're a giant, weeping rectum.

While I was cleaning up a bit further down our property line this morning an elderly, toothless yahoo wearing a red and black checkered cap and overalls stopped mid-stroll and mid-waterfront gawk to ask me, "Where can I get a breakfast that won't cost me an arm and leg?"

I could have kissed this elderly toothless yahoo who was wearing a red and black checkered cap and overalls. This chap was unabashedly and unashamedly 100% cow shit and dungarees. Besides that, he was sent by God.

After seeing Miss Accessory Pet fifteen minutes prior, I was feeling pretty low concerning the state of society and the general race to the bottom being run by American humankind.

There. at the bottom of the bucket where rich bitches wear live animals for status, God Hisself sent me a sweet, unassuming yahoo to show me that there were still real people in the world who didn't give a good Him dam about what anyone thought of what they looked like or how they dressed.

"Well," I replied, pointing south along the Way, "there's a McDonalds just down the street..."

Yahoo looked at me in wonder and exclaimed, "There is?!"

"Yup," said me. "You can just make out the golden arches from here. It's down at the ferry terminal. That would probably be your best bet."

"Well I guess it would be," Yahoo said like I'd just imparted some iron bound truth.

Then he looked me in the eye and said, with plain-faced honesty, "Thank you very much!"

Authenticity matters. And some days, when I find it, it makes me feel real good.